


Area 69

by Catharrington



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Birthday Party, Coming Out, M/M, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Tommy Hagan Being an Asshole, lap dance, strip club, thats it that’s the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24226021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catharrington/pseuds/Catharrington
Summary: Billy’s trying to have a nice 21st birthday. He lets his college dorm mate Tommy choose the bar and invite some friends. Sends an invite message with lots of emojis to his new boyfriend Steve. He styles his hair perfect, puts on his favorite shirt. Billy’s excited! Then Steve messages back he can’t get off work. And Tommy lets him know he didn’t pick a bar for the party. He picked a strip club.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 22
Kudos: 204





	Area 69

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a text post from tumblr[please read here](https://trashmouth-hargrove.tumblr.com/post/618281846734749696/i-so-badly-need-billy-going-to-the-club-with-a) from trashmouth-Hargrove
> 
> I don’t know why i was like yeah let me write a little drabble And then I couldn’t stop writing and adding details omg. Please enjoy ;)

Billy’s got his phone in his hand and tapping out a long, long message to Steve. With just one thumb, because his other hand is up on the dashboard of his Camaro tapping along in a piano tune of anxiety.

He can’t make it for the party, sent the text with a little sad face on the end. Billy didn’t understand why Steve’s stupid job couldn’t let him off the hook for one night. How sick could the people of Hawkins get they couldn’t let one EMT off one ambulance for one night, Jesus Christ.

But Billy’s long winded texts of how Steve is the only guy he really wants to spend his birthday with doesn’t fall on deaf ears. Steve promises he will make it, even if it’s just the last hour. He will get Robin to cover the last bit of his shift if he has to owe her a favor for it even. He’ll sneak out if push comes to shove.

_Because remember Billy, I’m sneaky. Like a ninja._

Another ding on Billy’s phone let him know someone else is trying to message him. He begrudgingly backs out of Steve’s message string, the last message being simply a winking face, to read the new text his dorm mate Tommy sent.

It’s an address and one Billy knows well. He’s picked his father up from drunk and angry enough. And he’s sneaked in there himself a few times. Area 69; a bad name for a bad club. But it’s about the only strip joint in a hours drive any direction in Hawkins. So it flourishes.

Billy regrets letting his dorm mate Tommy plan his birthday. Still, he sends back a thumbs up and slips his phone into his back pocket. He throws the Camaro into reverse, spinning his tires loudly in gravel as he pulls out of his college dorm building.

Area 69 is not a big place. Billy pulls up and takes one of the last open spots in its parking lot. The building is long, painted tan. It’s huge store front windows are all blocked out by glossy prints of Nevada landscapes. It was once a strip mall of three shops, now it was all under one blinking purple and green neon sign.

The words Area 69 in bulky letters next to a cartoon alien head wearing sunglasses. Billy spits on the ground before he walks inside.

“There’s the man of the hour!” Tommy hollers as soon as Billy slips his wallet back in his pocket from flashing his ID at the door. They are set up in a corner booth that Billy gets waved over too. There’s a spot left open right in the middle, and an already open bottle of champagne on ice in the middle.

“Ain’t I supposed to open that as the birthday boy?” Billy motions for the champagne.

Tommy scoffs as he pours out a long flute for Billy to take. “You were running late, dude. Couldn’t wait too long.” His face takes a tiny tilt and he fixes Billy with a quieter voice. “Having a spat with Prince Charming?”

Billy is sipping on his drink, then he leans his head back and drinks it in one go. Tommy’s mocking voice is a headache growing between Billy’s brows. How did he agree to this night at all?

“He’s not here, is why I ask,” Tommy eggs him on. Elbow to the ribs. Billy feels stuffy in his denim jacket so he slinks it off and fills his glass back up.

“He’s working. Out saving lives and all that shit. He should be coming by later,” if he can goes left unsaid. Tommy gives him a knowing smirk, his distaste for Steve evident as he lifts his own champagne flute in a toast.

“To the Hawkins ambulance department!” He cheers out. The handfull of people gathered around lift their own collection of drinks and beers in sync. Billy recognizes them all from his classes, he likes them all, so he raises his glass.

When Tommy drops his drink down from his long toast; he watches Billy over the rim with naughty eyes. “Best dick suckers in all of Hawkins, huh?” He whispers just for Billy to hear.

Billy sputters into his own drink, but before he can reply there’s another toast.

“To Billy! Finally legal enough to back up his big mouth!” Larry, a long haired guy from his intermediate algebra class, screams out over the blasting music and Billy’s growing anger.

“Happy birthday!”

There’s a long drawn chorus of loved happy birthdays before they take another drink. Tommy scoots back into the booth without any more shitty comments. Billy eyes him as he sits on the edge himself.

The seats are dark green leather that is soft but sticky under him. The carpeting is a swirling purple and red monstrosity you’re more likely to see in a bowling alley. But the joint really makes up for how ugly it is by how big the stage is.

Tommy wasn’t playing around when he set up the party. He picked a booth right next to the left most part of the stage where there is a set of stairs behind them. Every time a dancer goes up or down they are right next to the leering loud group of boys.

Billy doesn’t know how to begin to explain how much he doesn’t care how close they get, so instead he switches from champagne to a glass beer bottle as it’s offered to him.

A couple guys from his public speaking class have gifts for him; a campy birthday card with a couple bills stuffed in it, and a clean hardback copy of Stephen Kings Christine loosely wrapped in newspaper. Larry also shyly slips him a folded up Metallica shirt that still has a tag hanging off it.

“Thanks a lot you guys,” Billy claps Larry on the back, dipping his head to let him know he really means it. They all smile back and seem to really mean it too.

Billy is trying not to think about the fact that if Steve where here it would be the most loved he’s ever felt in his 21 years of age. But then, like a headache between his brows, Tommy reminds him that Steve isn’t here. And oh, he’s having his birthday at a strip club.

“Hey, buddy, you’d never guess what this lovely lady just told me?” His freckled face is flushed red from drinks already. He’s leaned across the table and looking right at Billy like he expects an answer. Billy just gives him a sarcastic shake of his head.

“She says it’s discounts on lap dances for birthday boys- special prices for special days!” Tommy sing songs.

Billy flounders, doesn’t know what to say.

“So don’t worry, I’ve taken the liberity of paying the hot girl! You can consider it a birthday gift from me to you!”

The rest of the table cheers out happy for Billy. Riled up and loud as they bang the table with a chanting of Billy’s name.

But Billy has his lips turned up in a growl, his eyes focused on Tommy’s shit eating grin. He knows, he is the only one who knows, and this is a dirty trick to play when he also knows Billy’s hands are tied. And Steve ain’t even here.

“Oh here she comes,” Tommy points over to a tall slender woman walking gracefully like a model cross the floor to their booth. Her legs are wrapped in fishnets and she’s somehow making the platform heals she’s wearing look easy to walk in. Someone wolf whistles. Billy turns away in a feign of bashfulness to hiss again towards Tommy.

“The man you’re looking for is right here, baby,” Tommy points at Billy, selling him out right to his face. The rest of the table joins in. They cannot be blamed, Billy doesn’t have the balls to come out quite yet to the whole gang. But Tommy, oh Billy is going to be blaming Tommy for a long time.

Two slender female hands wrap around the sides of Billy’s shirt he’s left mostly opened and pulls. He turns to see the girl has gotten closer, much closer, and her bright red lips are parted in a grin.

“So this is the lucky birthday boy?” She purrs. “Happy birthday, hurricane. Wanna follow me for a good time?”

Billy wants to squeak _no, no he doesn’t, but thank you so much for the offer- it’s quite alright_. He can’t say anything though before he’s being tugged along past the stage and towards a door. She’s got a good grip with pretty pink painted nails on his shirt.

Billy isn’t rude. He grew up with his step sister Max and his step mother Susan was an angel who adopted him proper after she divorced his waste of space father. Billy loves girls; loves how nice they are and how good they cook. Loves their long hair.

One thing he doesn’t love is how he’s shoved into a dressing room, down into a leather upholstered dining chair, and straddled by two plush womanly thighs. Billy is a lot of things but not rude.

So he holds his hands above her split legs respectfully and steadies his face in a practiced grin. Gives her a groan, a nice and long one, to make her think she’s doing well.

The girl stands up and crosses the small little dressing room to flick on a tiny stereo atop a makeup table. Of course Scorpion kicks on, ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane‘ must be her lap dance stick.

She turns back around to him with a down turned chin. Making her dark eye makeup smolder and her long wavy brown hair cascade around her face with a practiced ease. She starts walking towards him and with each step unlaces her tight latex top. She looks painted into it except where it’s opened right down the middle with long black ribbon for laces, her fingers are quick as they pluck the ribbon one by one out of the holes.

Billy gives her a weak smile as the latex drops away to her lime green push up bra. It’s hard to keep the smile as she twists the fabric in her hands and uses it to hook around the back of his head and pull him up to attention.

“Like what you see, big boy,” she purrs just loud enough to be heard over the blasting music. The shirt is sliding back and forth the back of Billy’s head, making him rock with her movement as she sways in front of him. Her hips are curvy, moving under the tightness of her fish nets and high waisted panties. Billy hovers his shaky hands and keeps his eyes up on her smile.

“They're great,” he grinds out. “Breasts,” he continues, “just love ‘em.”

“Hum,” she replies a vibration from pursed lips. Then she’s waving her hips down to sit flush against Billy’s lap again. He sucks his breath in an attempt to get as flush to the chair as possible.

Her skin feels wrong, it’s too hot and too close. His phone is in his back pocket and there is a heart emoji next to Steve’s name he put there for a damn reason. Sure Billy isn’t looking, and he isn’t touching, but his body is shivering and cringing back away as best he can.

“Seems like you are having some trouble focusing, birthday boy? You want a real special gift today to help you out?”

He swallows down a lump in his throat, but he almost chokes on it as she lets her shirt drop with a loud thwack. Then her fingers wrap around his wrists and pulls them to cup her breasts.

“Holy shit,” Billy gasps, his hands twitching to try and get free.

“Holy shit,” she repeats in a giggle.

“I’m gay!” he finally blurts. Without thinking, without fucking thinking. Billy tilts his head to the side and winces, bracing the muscles in his neck for a hit he can picture so clearly coming.

But the only thing he feels is her legs climbing off his lap and her hands letting go. “I’m sorry, birthday boy,” she stutters. Her vibrato lost in her nervous haste to scramble away. “I- I, is this some joke I wasn’t in on? Like a prank, or some shit?”

Billy snorts at that. He runs his hands though his curled hair in a moment to ground himself before he glances back over to her. “Fuck, maybe?” He laughs dryly. “It’s more... shit, it’s muddy. I’m just sorry too. For wasting your time. And making you touch me-,”

“Hey,” she chides him. The music flicks off and she turns to him with her arms crossed to cover her bra. “Don’t say that shit! I’ve done pranks and jokes like this before, you know! And...,” she trails off with a flick of her long brown hair over her shoulder. A shake of her head.

Then she winces as she adds, “I’m a lesbian.”

Billy drops his hands down with a loud slap on his thighs. Works his jaw for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. “What are you- if you don’t mind me asking? What are you doing here entertaining a bunch of pigs?”

“Aren’t you calling yourself and your friends pigs with that one, hurricane?” She laughs. Her posture already relaxing.

Billy shrugs and laughs. “I’ll be the first to admit to it, bunch of assholes out there. I mean just look at what they did- uh,” he rolled his hand as he talked.

“Heather,” she supplied.

“Billy,” he watched her for a moment. She was pretty, and gentle in her simple motions. Sure she would make someone happy one day.

“His name is Steve,” Billy sighs out of the blue. She shots him a look that reads confused, of course she was, but her cherry painted lips were turned up in a smile. “My boyfriend- his name is Steve. He’s fucking gorgeous. Has the best hair in all of Hawkins and the best smile, but he’s not just- gosh, he’s not just gorgeous. He’s a fucking EMT so he’s quick and smart and so brave it’s scary! Like I get scared sometimes-,”

He’s cut off by another giggle. Billy doesn’t even realize how much he has rambled on to this girl, this working girl, who he just met. And he can’t even tell his friends outside the truth.

Billy runs his hands though his hair again to collect himself. Then he laughs right back. Because yeah this is all crazy.

Billy stands up from the creaking metal chair and picks her discarded top off the floor. Walking over, he hands it off with a shy smile. “Sorry, that must sound... gross,” he says.

“No!” Heather takes her top back and shrugs it on. “No, Billy. That’s adorable! I wish I had someone in my life like that.” Her fingers work on the ribbons to tie them back up. Billy stands with his hands in his pockets and just listens to her for a while.

“Honestly, I’m only here doing this to pay my way through another year of college. Waitressing just wasn’t cutting it, you know? And it’s not really a problem acting like I like guys. I’ve been doing it so long I figure, hey, might as well make money off it?” She ties the end of her top into a fluffy bow, then smiles up at Billy.

“You’re a really good dancer, Heather. I just didn’t want to... it felt unfair to him, to continue,” Billy meekly finishes.

Heather reaches up and taps her pink fingertips as a soft pat on his cheek. “You’re a really good boyfriend, Billy.”

Billy smiles back at her, and he’s got an idea sneaking through his head as he watches her start to walk away. She stops at the door and goes to open it before motioning him to follow.

“Hey, I have a dumb question. But can I have your phone number? I have this friend who- well,” Heather has one eyebrow raised and a bitchy look growing on her face, so Billy sighs, “she! She! Seems lonely. Maybe you guys could talk?”

That makes a red blush curl up Heather’s cheeks and over the tip of her nose. When Billy’s walking back out to the table he has a scented piece of paper and a phone number written in gel pen ink. He’s reveling in the best ending this terrible birthday could possibly have, until he’s stopping dead in his tracks.

There’s another guy standing at their corner booth, glaring down at Tommy’s grinning face, with his hands on his hips and his hips cocked off to one side. And wearing a sharp navy blue EMT uniform.

Wait. Billy’s feet start carrying him a little faster. He takes in the messy head of long brown hair highlighted with honey gold sticking up at every angle after a long shift and the tone of his voice as he scolds someone like a vengeful mom.

“Who has a birthday at a strip joint, isn’t that for like bachelor parties, Tommy? Is this some new age hippy thing?” He huffs and looks over his shoulder and, god, Steve is pouting his glossy plump lips. Pouting, spoiled rotten, and gorgeous.

Billy is on him quick, wrapping one arm around his trim waist. Maybe he’s too trim from such long nights on his feet. Billy is already thinking of all the birthday cake he’s going to try and get Steve to eat later that night.

Now, he’s focused on how Steve is in front of him. His pout turned to an ear to ear smile that folds up his cheeks perfectly. “Hey, Bill,” he says smoothly, “can you believe Robin actually agreed to cover for me! Sick I don’t have to try and sneak off, but I so owe her a favor now. It’s like I sold my soul to the devil.”

Billy breaths in the honey scented shampoo and conditioner Steve uses and breaths out a needy whine. There’s a whole table full of people around him. Tommy’s glare doesn’t go unnoticed as he tightens his hold around Steve’s waist.

There’s a tick of silence as all eyes fall on him waiting for an answer or to move his arm. A tough guy snark back. A friendly shove against Steve’s chest as a greeting. Any one of these things they are expecting.

So Billy moves, just not in a way they were expecting. Gently, he cups his other hand around Steve’s perfect jaw. The caress makes Steve drop his hands from his waist and hover them over Billy’s back. He’s unsure what to do.

Hell, Billy didn’t know what he was doing one minute ago in a back room with an exotic dancer named Heather. But times they are a changing.

With a knowing quirk on his smile, a raise of his brow that gets mirrored, Billy secures his arm around the smallest part of Steve’s waist. He uses his other hand to steady his neck and spins Steve into a deep dip. Steve’s little breath of a gasp is just caught above the noise of Billy’s raging heart beat threatening to burst from his chest.

Their eyes meet; wide brown ones caught completely off guard, and blue ones searching asking for permission. _Please, Stevie? Is now okay?_

Steve smiles. Wraps his arms tightly around Billy’s shoulders flexing with keeping him upright.

“Happy birthday, Bill,” Steve whispers. And he keeps smiling as Billy leans down and catches his lips in a kiss.

Behind them the table explodes in cheers and chanting of Billy’s name. It’s not exactly what he was expecting; but it’s wonderful to listen to. When he brings Steve back up, maybe groaning a little from having to hold the weight of his boyfriend, Billy is smiling the widest and the brightest he has in his short 21 years of life.

He feels complete as he helps Steve steady himself back to his feet. Smoothing out his ironed work shirt. And Billy gets his own clap on the back. He turns to see Larry, blinking red eyes from maybe too much champagne, but a dopey grin on his face that might match Billy’s if he could see himself.

“This is my boyfriend, Steve,” Billy announces.

“I figured, my man,” Larry nods, “congrats!”

On the way back to Steve’s and Robin’s shared apartment, a nice expensive new unit built right on the edge of town like it doesn’t really belong to the shit hole of Hawkins, they have their hands tangled together. Steve’s shirt is unbuttoned and wrinkled just as much as Billy’s is. They are listening to Elton John over the radio in a promise that if Steve gets his music now, then Billy gets to feed him some birthday cake when they get behind his room’s locked door.

“Oh I almost forgot,” Billy reaches into his back pocket and brings out Heather’s phone number. “Robin won’t owe you shit after you give her this, pretty boy. Trust me.”

Steve takes the paper and reads it over, gives it a little sniff. “I trust you, Bill. Always have, always will.”

Billy cups the back of Steve’s neck to give him a chaste kiss before returning his eyes to the road.


End file.
